


three step plan for happiness

by seoltaengi (turnuptaehyung)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cute, Everyone Is Gay, First Love, Fluff, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee Are Best Friends, M/M, Mentioned Park Jisung (NCT), Mentioned Zhong Chen Le, My First Work in This Fandom, Short & Sweet, Students, a lot of tears, and swearing, i wrote this for donghyucks birthday but i never finished it on time, renjun and chenle are siblings, they r media students!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 05:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15188018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnuptaehyung/pseuds/seoltaengi
Summary: Donghyuck has a plan; 3 steps that should give him optimum happiness, providing he can follow them strictly. Everything is going well, until he meets Mark Lee and things take a marginally different route than he intended.





	three step plan for happiness

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!!!! as i said in the tags, i wrote this the day before donghyuck's birthday but i just finished it today - oops! i was actually working on hyuck's birthday-day so i lost time to finish this, but better late than never, right? i love markhyuck, i was a media studies & communication and culture student at college so i based this off of my experiences. this is sort of a mess of fluff and tears. i hope u enjoy! 
> 
> (o! this is also my first work in this fandom - published, anyway - despite the fact ive been in the fandom since debut. don't be too critical of me, i bruise like a peach)

Throughout his life, Donghyuck has tried to keep his head down.

If he could ace his classes, keep his parents sweet, and not get into any trouble along the way, then he’d succeed in his 3-step-plan for optimum happiness. It was relatively simple, as he had come up with it on one rainy afternoon at the naïve age of six, legs crossed and hand viciously scrawling whatever came to mind. (There had been a particularly uplifting and thought-provoking episode of _Soreike!_ on that just had Donghyuck _reeling;_ if he didn’t put his limited vocabulary to use in that moment, he would have regretted it forever.)

The exact piece of paper had been lost — yellow and orange star-lined, and nothing but a memory, now — along with many of his sister’s pens that ended up strewn across the blue painted wood desk in his bedroom, but the sentiment and content still lingers, in one way or another.

In physical form, the words _‘A+’_ , _‘PARENTS’_ , and _‘BE GOOD!!!’_ are block printed on the off-white paper at the very top of his cork board, barely visible underneath the mounds of other post-it’s and polaroid photos of him and his friends; some decorated with crass drawings and the others with small hearts decorating the frame (none of it his own art, however. Donghyuck is anti drawing-on-your-photos).

In terms of immaterial form, it is kind of difficult for Donghyuck to forget that he ever implemented those words forever as a metaphorical neon sign on his forehead. Between his younger sister, who is always quick to pick up on any hint of a lower grade than usual in his classes, and his parents who monitor his every move — in and outside of school — it is near impossible for the teen to fail his plans. Even if he wanted to.

He is lucky enough to have a good, relatively well-behaved friend group at school, too, so the third part of his plan comes about without needing to do any hard work at all. It consists of 5 the of them, himself included; all similar ages, 17 and 18 retrospectively, and a mixture of nationalities. Jeno and Jaemin are Korean, born and bred, and are practically glued at the hip despite their fairly different personalities. Renjun is of Chinese nationality, and Mark is of Canadian. Separately, they make no huge impact on the world, merely existing upon the Earth’s plane like millions of others do, but together… well, that’s when things change.

Or Donghyuck would like to think, anyway.

In reality, he and his misfit friends make up the small-yet-broad group of personalities that the rest of the school deem as _‘Film Nerds’;_ a befitting title, considering their current situation. 

Donghyuck is sat, legs propped up on the arm of a cloth-covered chair, with his laptop barely balanced on his thighs, the heat from the fan beginning to scald his golden skin through the thin material of his sweatpants. His fingers are flitting from key to key, a shake of the mouse every now and then and a forceful click of the buttons when needed, and the sound is soothing. It’s a soft constant, an ASMR-type of noise that could easily lull the most susceptible of snoozers into a state of bliss, but it’s ultimately pretty difficult to hear when your friends decide that 1 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon is a great time to voice their (strongly-worded) opinions on…  who even knows, anymore.

Media Studies wasn’t always like this. In fact, as a subject, it was overall quite mellow — slow paced yet somewhat exciting, what with all the new releases in the charts and on the big screen — and that is one of the reasons that Donghyuck chose it for his extracurricular class. He wanted something that could get him a passable grade in order to boost his entire average, a stop-gap until he found a subject that he was able to excel at though pure talent at it alone, and Media Studies filled that slot perfectly. After all, watching movies and listening to music really didn’t seem like a bad way to spend his free time, and if he got a grade out of it at the end of his 2 years, then it was a win-win situation all round.

However, his friends made it… difficult, to put it politely.

He’d met them there, on the 3rd day of the new semester, and they flocked to him like a bird to prey. Apparently, Jeno had known who he was before he even introduced himself to the class, thanks to the many mentions in the school magazine due to his outstanding grades. Jaemin was none the wiser, but wherever Jeno went, so did he, therefore the two of them met in no time.

Renjun was hesitant to begin with. It took a few crooked-smiles and sorry expressions for the Chinese boy to warm up to Donghyuck enough to speak to him in full sentences, but once they bonded over their very similar age, things only went up from there.

Mark was a very different story.

Donghyuck met him after an unfortunate mishap with a case of mistaken bag-identity, wherein the older boy picked up Donghyuck’s bag thinking it was his own and only found out _after_ he played an entire football game with the words _‘FULL SUN’_ printed on the back of his jersey, the number 41 plaguing him for the rest of his days. (How the boy didn’t realise that something was off when the shirt was a _basketball_ team’s and not a football’s, Donghyuck will _never_ know). A lot of rushed apologies were spilled as the brunette dropped a freshly-washed and folded basketball uniform to Donghyuck’s house, a polite bow as he stuck out a petite hand and offered a _“I’m Mark, by the way”_ as a means of breaking the ice which, consequently, threw them into a lifelong (and unprecedented) friendship. An unbreakable bond. It was unique and abnormal, and both of them cherished it.

He loved his friends, he really did, but sometimes, there’s only so much whisper-shouting that Donghyuck can take.

“Unless you guys are conspiring on ways to make sure that robots can’t take over the human race in a decade’s time, can you shut the fuck up for five minutes?” he shouts, voice strained from disuse. “Honestly, the way you treat this place makes me feel like I’m at a zoo and not a high school.”

Jeno glances up from where his head was hidden behind a book, a faint pink hue dusting the tips of his ears. “I didn’t think we were being that loud,” he declares, uncertainty in his eyes. The raven-haired boy shoots a glance at Jaemin, who is sat quietly opposite him with a smirk on his face. “Were we being loud?”

“No, Hyuck’s just got a stick up his ass because he can’t get his assignment to perfection.” The grating voice of Jaemin is something Donghyuck doesn’t wish upon anyone, friend or foe, because it just pummels deep into your skull and clings on like a leech. “Don’t take it out on us because you suck at the subject.”

Now, anyone else and Donghyuck would have slammed his laptop lid dramatically, thrown it to the side and stomped over to their personal bubble, popping it with a loud cuss and some poorly guided prods to their torso, but this was Jaemin. Hard punches, stinging slaps, Na Jaemin. Donghyuck doesn’t have a deathwish.

“What _ever_ , Nana. Talk to me about sucking when you admit to doing it yourse—”

As if on queue, Mark steps into the room, hands filled with paper bags — chicken delivery, Donghyuck’s memory tells him. “Are you guys fighting _again_?” he asks, voice dejected as he takes sight of the lounging teens in their Media room. “I leave for 5 minutes to collect our food, and you’re already at each other’s throats. It’s a surprise we’re all passing this class with the poor teamwork we have going on.”

Donghyuck wants to protest, call Mark out and make sure he isn’t the one to get blamed for Jaemin’s pettiness, but then there’s a clean plate on the table in front of him and Mark is carefully hand-picking some chicken and placing it carefully down. Maybe the arguing can wait for another day.

“Is this from the place in _Namdaemun*_?” the copper-haired boy asks, adjusting his position to accommodate food on his lap as well as his laptop. “The one down the back alley’s of the market?”

Mark nods. “Your favourite, right?”

 _Yeah_ , Donghyuck thinks, _and it’s fucking expensive._ Mark wasn’t made of money — how could he afford to treat them to something like this? And _why?_ “Do you want something, hyung? Is this your way of buying us?”

A small gasp leaves the elder’s lips, a look of genuine shock and hurt written on his face as he gifts himself the smallest piece of chicken that is left-over. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, it’s just…” Donghyuck muses how he can word this without sounding rude, but words never were his strong point. “This costs a _lot_ , and you’re sort of broke.” He fiddles with opening the sour cream sauce that comes with the meal — the best part, in his humble opinion — and dipping his chicken gingerly in before bringing it up to his lips and nibbling at the soft flesh, savouring the taste like it’s his last meal on Earth. “You must want us to do something for you in return. Do you want us to do your assignment? Is that it?”

Donghyuck thinks he’s hit the nail on the head when Mark flushes a bright shade of red, the prominence of his cheekbones making the vibrant colour hard to conceal, but the elder quickly dismisses it with a trademark head shake and scrunch of his eyes. “I do not need any of you coming near my assignment, thank you very much; the thought of that alone makes me suddenly not hungry anymore.” He chuckles, and Donghyuck — on the contrary— feels fuller in an instant. “I don’t want _anything,_ I just thought I’d do something nice for you,” (“we’re here too, you know!” Renjun speedily interjects from the corner of the room, but it’s ignored), “since it’s end of year coming up and I know you’re stressed.”

 _Oh_ , Donghyuck thinks. That’s sort of, like, really nice. Trust Mark Lee to be the nice guy in all of this.

“Oh,” the younger says, aloud this time. “Thanks, I guess.” Shit, Donghyuck _really_ needs to brush up on his charisma. “I’ll eat it well.”

Mark smiles as the younger tucks into the chicken, hands smothered in sauce and getting stained more intensely by the second, before muttering a: “That’s all I want, Hyuck.”

(Jeno and Jaemin hear it, as does Renjun, but Donghyuck doesn’t. There’s too much chewing in his head to be able to, and maybe it’s for the best, seeing as Mark is quick to act as though it never happened. Sometimes that’s the easiest thing to do.)

 

 

* * *

 

The weeks pass in a blur, a mass of 50’s movies about heiresses and royals which really don’t pique Donghyuck’s interest and indie music that sounds about as hopeful as Jeno’s left toe on a Winter’s morning, and before the boys realise it, the day of their assignment deadline arrives.

In the space of 25 minutes, Jeno and Renjun have already given their final presentations to the class and managed to nab a high-level _B_ (Jeno’s wordy explanations on how lighting used in a scene can really depict the atmosphere and mood was intelligible, but overall too long-winded, and the teacher cut him a few marks for that), and a clean-cut _A_ (choosing to rant about the misuse of gay and bisexual actors in movies and TV shows was a risque topic, but Renjun’s ability to persuade and inform overrun that, and therefore he is currently the student with the best grade), and then suddenly, it’s Donghyuck’s turn.

He’s nervous; anyone with any shred of emotion in their body would be. It’s a natural instinct, to feel fear when presented with a potentially threatening situation, so the sweaty palms and buckling knees is all normal.

His voice shakes a little when he begins, but generally, his argument that Western movies portray stereotypical ‘ _happy-endings_ ’ in a more unrealistic way than Korean movies is strong, and his points are clear and tactile. He’s researched for this, done more than his fair share of hours and put in excessive efforts to ensure he doesn’t offend, doesn’t come off as biased towards his own countries’ work, and truthfully, if the succinct round of applause in the room when he gives his closing statement isn’t a telltale sign that it all paid off, then the verbal _“A+, Mr. Lee”_ certainly is.

It’s a rush, as always, getting to be  the top of the class and finishing with near perfect marks. He should be used to it now, seeing as it happens in every class, every year, but in all honesty, Donghyuck is still so taken-aback by the fact that he seems to be excelling in everything he tries. His parents act like it’s a given, as though their son should’ve been achieving no less and therefore it’s no big deal to them — another space on the fridge filled with a certificate of over-achievement — and even his friends have started to resign themselves to the fact that they’ll never be as studious as Donghyuck is. But, for Donghyuck himself, he’s just grateful to be able to say he’s fully completed two steps of his plan without a hitch. That’s what it’s all for, in the end.

Mark is the first to give him a gentle pat on the back followed by a bright smile, when he returns to his desk, fingers fiddling with the blue USB in his hands as he nervously thanks his friend for his kind words. Before he can wish the brunette boy any luck in return, he’s already up on his feet and bounding over to the front of class, his own green USB clutched tightly in his palm as he faces the class with an aura of confidence that Donghyuck never fails to find admirable.

His eyes scrunch once, twice — a bad habit — and he coughs into his hand, the sound reverberating off the thin plaster walls and back to the front like an echo. The tenseness in his shoulders shouldn’t be obvious, but to Donghyuck, it’s blatant. When you spend so much time around someone, you pick up on their mannerisms, their body language; it’s both a blessing and a curse, in times like these. Donghyuck can tell Mark’s feeling even a little nervous — he had mentioned that the topic of his assignment was a sensitive one, taxing to research and compile evidence for, but worth it in the end — so does what he can to help.

“Mark hyung, fighting!” he yells, voice raised a pitch or two for dramatic effect as he cups his mouth with his hands. If he notices the pink rouging his friends’ cheeks, he chooses not to dwell on it; anxiety does different things to everyone.

The brunette’s eyes lock on Donghyuck’s for a brief second, a momentary glance so fleeting that it could’ve been passed off as an accident, before his spine straightens and he hands his USB over to the professor to load his presentation up. Except, there’s nothing even _close_ to a traditional presentation appearing on the screen behind him.

Donghyuck thinks it’s a mistake, a poor mis-click on his teacher’s part, but when Mark simply smiles at the soft background noise beginning to play, the younger starts to realise that this _was_ his friend’s final assignment. A video montage of Donghyuck and him (Jaemin’s voice can be heard every now and then, and Jeno’s hands come into frame once or twice, but that’s all, really), clips ranging from their first real meeting, to two days prior. The clips look familiar but not from the angle they’re shot — it’s clear that wherever Mark held the camera, it was supposed to be hidden and secretive, no chance of getting caught — and each one is so perfect in representing their friendship that Donghyuck feels his heart clench and stomach flip.

Of course, all courtesy of Mark Lee. Of _fucking_ course.

“So,” Mark begins, his voice less confident than his face, gaze not meeting anyone’s as he stares at the floor in front of him. “My topic was on the content behind documentaries and home-style films.” His hand shakes, but he lifts it to direct everyone’s attention to the screen, which is currently showing Mark’s 18th birthday where Donghyuck planted a huge, sloppy kiss onto his whip-cream coated cheek. “I was going to pick an already-made, widely produced one, but I wanted something real and raw to show my points correctly. For me, documentaries are great. They’re generally informative and are there to serve as a documentation — hence their name.

“However, when studying other documentaries on a variety of topics — nature, sport, crime, the list goes on — I found that none of them were completely candid. What good is a documentation of something if it isn’t the real thing? That’s why I’m using my best friend,” he gulps, “Donghyuck, as my documentary subject, and our friendship as the topic. Because, if you ask me, there’s nothing more realistic than a genuine bond, and I feel like we have such a thing.”

If there are more technical things said after that, Donghyuck doesn’t hear them, because his ears are burning and he’s sure that his heartbeat shouldn’t be this loud in his head. The nausea he felt previously only increases every time a new video shows on screen, the unflattering angles ignored as he sees the unadulterated joy on his best friend’s face every now-and-then, and Donghyuck doesn’t know why, but his vision is blurring and his cheeks are damp.

Renjun, however, does know why. Not quiet enough, he whispers: “are you crying?”, and if Mark’s attention was elsewhere in that moment, it definitely isn’t now.

It’s a flurry of fast legs and callous hands on soft cheeks, but Mark is suddenly no longer at the front of class, but is now stood, back arched, in front of Donghyuck and tending to him like a protective mother. “Why are you crying, idiot?” the elder murmurs out, the pads of his thumbs running gently across the soft tissue under Donghyuck’s eyes. “Did I embarrass you that much? I’m so sorry, Hyuck, I should’ve asked your permission first, but I just wa—”

There’s an impact, and then a mop of auburn hair mussed up against a solid chest, and Donghyuck’s tears are making themselves onto Mark’s creased grey shirt with ease. Donghyuck is embarrassed, Mark is correct there, but only because of the fact he’s literally ugly-sobbing over a video of himself.

“You just,” he hiccups, frog in his throat that he swallows harshly, “you hit me right _here_ , man!” The redhead prods himself in the chest, a few inches from where his heart sits — beating like crazy — inside.

The whole class is staring at them now, looks of mild confusion on their faces (save for Jeno and Jaemin, who are smiling widely with knowing looks shared) as Mark’s hand cups the back of Donghyuck’s head and presses him down with slight pressure to dry the stray tears with the cloth of his t-shirt. It’s their teacher who dares to speak, interrupt the soft moment between the best friends, who simply says _“A+, Minhyung. Take him outside for some air, won’t you?”_. And what kind of a student would Mark be to ignore a teacher’s request?

It takes about 45 seconds for the two of them to successfully maneuver around the myriad of tables and chair (and legs, too, for that matter), but when they do eventually make it out alive, Donghyuck can finally breathe. He lets go, literally and metaphorically, and sighs deeply as even more tears escape from the jail that is his eyes, all while Mark drags him helplessly along to a nearby bench and plops him down.

It’s pretty abandoned in this hour, with most students in lectures or exams, and it seems that even the campus cleaners are nowhere to be seen, so it makes everything easier for the both of them. Donghyuck can cry freely, and Mark can speak without constraint.

“Hyuck, will you stop crying for two seconds so I can talk to you?” Mark tries, but it’s a fruitless effort. Without thinking, he slaps his best friend harshly on the thigh, wincing himself when the slap noise resounds through the empty courtyard. “Shit, I’m so sorry, that was harder than expected.”

Apparently, however, this is all it takes to snap the younger boy from his trance, his cries silencing immediately as his watery gaze meets Mark’s own unsteady one. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me help with your work?” Mark tilts his head — another habit, albeit much cuter than the squinting — and asks for a further explanation. “The video, were you really trying to keep it such a big secret?”

Bashful, Mark nods, a blush on the tips of his ears which make him resemble a pixie (in Donghyuck’s eyes, at least). “I wanted to do something for your birthday, but then that passed by really quick so I missed my chance there, but I also didn’t really have a solid topic for the exam, so I sort of…” his words trailer, but Donghyuck being Donghyuck wouldn’t just let that happen without a fight.

“Finish your sentence, idiot.” He pushes Mark’s arm, not making a huge effort to move his hand away even when the pushing ceases. Mark doesn’t flinch away like he usually does — _weird_.

The brunette’s eyes do flicker down to the warm palm against his pale skin, however, and his cheeks begin to flush a similar colour to his ears. “No, you’ll only make fun of me if I say it.”

Donghyuck nuzzles his head into Mark’s shoulder, chin hooked over it. “I always make fun of you — why should I give you a free pass this time?” It’s supposed to be lighthearted, a mood booster, but it seems to garner the opposite effect as Mark’s brows furrow and his lips purse into a pout.

“I was going to say, I sort of used you as my muse.”

It’s silent for a beat and a half, and then Donghyuck’s loud laugh is echoing, deafening poor Mark whose ear is directly beside the big mouth that it comes from. He’s hitting Mark’s thigh, now; a swap of actions, but the elder is quick to push him away, this time. “Hey, I’m not teasing you, I just,” the redhead swipes at the corner of his eye, wiping a stray tear which may have been the product of laughing rather than pent up emotions, “muse sounds like such a romantic thing, don’t you think?”

Mark doesn’t respond, only goes to move himself away and shrug his best friend off of him, and it’s then — only then — that Donghyuck thinks he understands. He’s always a little slow when it comes to realizing what things mean, overlooking them; speedy to see the deeper meanings of things, but those that are right under his nose? An entirely different story. This, however, he might just get. 

“Mark, do you like me?”

The question is straightforward, blunt yet not laced with accusation in a negative way, at all. Donghyuck holds his gaze, tries to keep strong as he always is, but the way in which Mark’s eyes well up and his bottom lip quivers a little, his resolve begins to shatter.

His arms come out and wrap around the brunette’s body, and an entire head-to-toe shiver wracks through him with a particularly sharp gust of wind. Mark’s hands quietly find their way to the small of Donghyuck’s back, and his head becomes buried in the crook of his neck as he bites back tears.  It’s a really sad sight to anyone onlooking, but it’s even sadder for Donghyuck who has just unintentionally teased his best friend to the point of bringing him to tears.

Mark finally speaks. “You didn’t get to see the end of my video.”

A random statement, it seems, but the redhead responds nonetheless. (In that moment, though, he’d cut off his left ear if that’s what it took to make Mark happy). “No, I didn’t. Was it better than the rest?”

“Would’ve made this less painful, I think. Less embarrassing.”

Just when Donghyuck thinks he understands, he’s back to being as clueless as ever. He pries himself (unwillingly) away from the warm body heat of his best friend, and situates himself so he’s a few good inches from Mark’s face. The elder boy looks wrecked, cheeks puffy and eyes red from unshed tears. His lips are chapped a little, but not much — Renjun treated them all to cherry-scented ones mere weeks before, stating that ‘winter is a bitch, so protect yourself’ — but they’re bitten red, and Donghyuck feels awful. This must have been all his doing, right? He made Mark like this.

“I’m sorry I upset you, and I’m sorry I missed the end of your video because I’m an emotional pile of shit, but don’t use riddles to get back at me because you know how ignorant I am,” he barks out, tongue feeling too big for his mouth. Mark smiles a little, a pretty sight, and somehow, this gives him confidence that he didn’t even know he had. “Do you like me, Mark Lee?” Mark doesn’t answer, so Donghyuck takes liberties. “Is silence really going to be your answer, young grasshopper?” The elder boy audibly laughs at this, and it feels like a bigger success than Korea winning the football against Germany in the World Cup. “Come on, be a man! Tell me!”

It’s in jest, a joke at most, but when Mark leans forward and presses the chastest of kisses to Donghyuck’s moist lips, it’s suddenly an entirely different feeling.

The younger seems to be struggling for breath, his lungs not cooperating with his brain as his entire body halts functioning correctly and his eyes widen to the point of it being slightly comedic, however, it seems that gravity (or years of unspoken feelings, perhaps) has another idea, and now there’s less than a hairsbreadth between the two boys again.

Donghyuck doesn’t know what comes over him — he really hates his sporadic personality, sometimes — but he garners enough confidence to whisper, “is that a yes?” and without waiting for an answer, reconnects their lips in a kiss much harsher than the first.

It might be seconds before they break apart, or it might be hours, but all that Donghyuck knows is that: #1, his best friend likes him, and not in a platonic sort of way. More in a ‘I want to hold your hand in public and give you goodnight kisses’ way. #2, Donghyuck is sort of (see: most definitely) okay with that. And, #3, Jaemin’s voice is about to drive him up the fucking wall.

“You assholes!” the aforementioned shouts, an accusatory finger pointing at the two of them that are sat cuddled up on the campus bench. His face looks mildly irritated, but the smile that he can’t hide gives him away. A curse, some would say, but Donghyuck is grateful for it, at least.

Jeno is stood beside him, hands in his pockets and looking far too calm for the situation at hand. “You really left class to make out? Low blow, dudes. Low blow.”

Mark clearly becomes aware of what just happened (you know, kissing his best friend that he has harboured a deep-rooted crush on for years and then getting caught in said act by two of his other friends who are _definitely_ dating) as his face turns scarlet, and he coughs and slides to the other end of the bench away from Donghyuck. It’s seems a little rude, maybe, but he’s sure the younger boy will understand, and judging by the warm smile he gets as they meet each other’s gaze, that’s exactly correct.

“Well,” Donghyuck speaks, voice a little rushed and urgent, “shows over now, losers! Go suck each other off, or something — Mark and I need some time without you all.”

Jeno blushes, Jaemin clicks his tongue, but both leave as instructed after shouting a particularly loud, “you’ve got some explaining to do later, hyung!” at a giggling Donghyuck, and then it’s suddenly the two of them alone again.

Normally, this would be fine. Best friends together never have awkward or uncomfortable silences, and especially not Mark and Donghyuck. But, there’s a definite _something_ in the air which needs to be sorted out, so the younger takes initiative and stands, reaches out his hand towards Mark, and waits. “Come on, I want to see the end of your video."

 

* * *

 

 

So, as it turns out, the end of the video is Mark’s subtle, unique-to-them way of telling Donghyuck that he likes him as more than just a friend. It’s written in English, broken in the way the Donghyuck enjoys to speak it (to annoy Mark, primarily — his English is actually strong, but it’s always fun to tease his hyung by acting as though it’s atrocious), and in the form of a riddle; Mark’s favourite.

It takes Donghyuck a while to fully understand it, but once he does, he plants another sloppy kiss onto Mark’s cheek, now void of any redness or tears, and calls him cute just for good measure. (He also ruffles his hair and gets a slap to the shoulder for it, but it’s all worth it to see Mark blush like a schoolgirl).

Donghyuck thanks him for the efforts that he put in, asks for a personal copy of the video, and spends the rest of the afternoon attached to Mark’s side, the video playing softly on repeat in the background. When he questions how many more hidden videos of him Mark has stored on his computer, the elder blushes a furious shade of red, and Donghyuck thinks that’s a good enough answer as any.

 

* * *

 

From that point on, Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin are a headache — they don’t stop asking questions, accusations and remarks being thrown left, right, and centre — but Donghyuck shuts them down with a simple response.

“Mark and I like each other, we are going to kiss in front of you all, cuddle at all times, and be sickeningly sweet, so it you have any problems or issues, please feel free to keep them to yourselves and get the fuck out of the room.”

Mark wants the world to swallow him whole every time Donghyuck curses so freely, turn him into an environmental form of compost, but then there’s a hand in his and a thumb rubbing soothing patterns on the back of his hand, and suddenly, nothing in the world matters besides that.

“You’re snakes, you know that?” Renjun says one day, approximately 4 months after the fateful day. “I still can’t believe you used your relationship to get an A+! It’s totally cheating; I should’ve just bribed Chenle to let me film him and then used out incredible sibling bond to cheat my way to the top, too.”

“Okay, for a start, Renjun, Chenle hates you and no amount of money would’ve convinced him to do such a thing,” Mark begins, accepting a ssam from Donghyuck and finishing his mouthful before continuing. “And besides that, Chenle is always too busy with Jisung to pay you any mind at all. Fruitless efforts, man.”

The Chinese boy scoffs, shoves a large heap of sticky rice into his mouth, and glares at the older boy. “It’s just bullshit! if the final scores come out and you’ve got the highest overall grade in class, I’m starting a petition against you two.”

Donghyuck smiles. He could get used to this.

 

* * *

  

(When the final grades are released on the campus bulletin board, Donghyuck is beyond happy to see that Mark’s name is at the top, bright red numbers _‘147’_ plastered next to his name. Somehow, seeing _‘143’_ next to his own doesn’t make him worry or upset, but instead fills him with a feeling of pure, unadulterated pride. Because in his eyes, nobody deserves it more.

Donghyuck’s parents aren’t best pleased to hear the disappointing news, but when he blurts out, “it’s fine, Mom, my boyfriend got the top grade and only by 4 points, anyway,” they can’t decide whether they should be more shocked about the revelation that their son is dating a boy or that his grade isn’t top of the class.

They eventually get over the grade thing after full promises to do better in the future, but Donghyuck regrets ever mentioning the boyfriend part, because his sister is worse than his friends and he’s sure that he’s never wanted death to consume him more when she asks him if they’ve kissed yet. He’s not one to blush, but it seems that he can’t control it when it comes to Mark Lee. What’s new, though?)

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you happy?” Mark asks one summer evening, when the sun is still high in the sky and the stars are just about peeking their luminescent heads out.

It takes Donghyuck by surprise, and he turns his head to meet his boyfriend’s gaze. “Do I not seem it?”

The brunette shakes his head, a hint of amusement gracing his features. “You _always_ seem happy, Hyuck. But I mean, are you at your _optimum_ happiness?” His head tilts a little, eyes like doe’s, and hopes that Donghyuck understands.

He does. “Oh, my three step plan?” he clarifies, and Mark nods. “Yeah, I guess so, then. I mean, my grades are good, my parents are happy — even more so now that they know I’ve got a smart boyfriend who can help me with studies if I need it — and I haven’t got in any trouble thus far, right?” This is all true, and as he says the words, he realises just how far he’s come in the 12 years that have passed since he made that plan.

At 6-years-old, he couldn’t have known that his childish words could work as such a strict guideline in his life. They were just that — _words_ — and they held no real weight to them, but as time progressed and things fell into place, they became one of the only things thing Donghyuck could safely say he could rely on.

Then came starting a new school, the stress of exams, and finally, Mark Lee.

Unexpected doesn’t cover the friendship that blossomed between the two of them, and a blessing isn’t close to what it feels like to be in love with the brunette boy from Canada, but Donghyuck does know one thing for sure.

His plan is complete — he’s reached his highest peak — and he’s happy. So, unabashedly happy. Maybe keeping his head down wasn’t really his key to success, in the end, but it led him to here and that’s all that matters.

 

 

* * *

 

 

(Later that night, when the sun finally sets and his bed is calling out to him, Donghyuck says goodbye to the piece of yellowing paper on his cork board, smiling as it crumples up in his palm and lands precisely in his trash can. He replaces the empty space with a new, non-scribbled on (!!!) Polaroid of him and Mark, skin glowing and radiant in front of the setting sun over the Han River, and he smiles.

No more goals, no more plans —  just happiness.)

**Author's Note:**

> *if you ever visit korea and stay in seoul as opposed to anywhere else, please visit namdaemun market, go down the very narrow and hot ‘noodle alley’ (if my memory serves me correctly) and turn left. 
> 
> on your left, hidden away, is a chicken restaurant which you have to head upstairs for, where there are 3 small tables and barely any space for much more. the sweet chilli chicken and pizza there is to die for ^^ 19,000₩ for a large bowl, and the staff are lovely!
> 
> it was empty when we went, but the delivery drivers were working like crazy to get chicken packaged and sent out, so it seems like a rlly popular delivery place!
> 
> yea that was my ted talk thanks for coming


End file.
